


Flashes

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Car Accidents, Character Death, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OK WITH DEATH, Death, F/M, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, No flames please because I warned you, Reader Death, Soulmates, Triggers, hints of Clintasha relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: Soulmate AU. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” - William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar). Reader has spent her whole life waiting to find her soulmate Bucky Barnes. Will they have a happily ever after?





	1. Chapter 1

Your eyes widened as you stared at your best friend, Natasha Romanoff. You could tell she was having another flash, and that this one was making her very happy. She stared, unseeing, with eyes glazed over just a bit. A smile formed on her pretty face.

Natasha blinked once, twice, then was back with you, back from wherever she’d been in the vision.

That’s what flashes were – _visions_.

You’d never had one personally, but from what you could tell, it was like having virtual reality goggles. You could see, feel, and fully experience the entire thing as if you were there.

The fact that everyone else around you had already had at least one flash in their lives made you feel like an odd ball, even more than your personality already did.

Natasha had a vision at least once a week. Sometimes they made her sad because she still didn’t know who her mystery soulmate was, but mostly, she got to experience new adventures, or feel elated for a minute or so.

Today had been your first day off from work in a while, so the two of you were laying on the floor of her apartment, just being lazy. Rain battered the window pane, but you didn’t mind. You always liked the rain.

“That was…awesome,” she breathed out, her smile still present. “This time I was at an archery competition. I’m pretty sure it was the Olympic trials or something, because the logo was everywhere. That means my soulmate is a professional athlete!”

The only thing that would have made her happier was if he was a professional billionaire. 

So anyways, they tell you growing up that three things were proven facts regarding these visions.

The first is that every person on earth has one, and only one, soulmate, and when your visions start, you will see glimpses of that person that will help lead you to each other. It could be street names, logos like Natasha saw, or even a tattoo or unique birthmark.

The second is that not every person’s soulmate is guaranteed to survive long enough to meet them.

The third is that this bond _cannot_ be broken, except by death.

Since you never had a vision in your entire life, you concluded that your soulmate had died a long time ago, before the visions would have been able to start. It’s different for everyone, but like puberty, they usually start in happening your teenage years.

Everyone around you would tell you to cheer up, that it wasn’t certain, that they could still start, but you didn’t really put any faith or hope into the idea.

No, you were sure you were meant to lead a solitary life.

A soulmate passing away before one could meet them wasn’t all that uncommon. Your own aunt had flashes, but one day they had suddenly stopped. She’d been able to piece together enough clues, only to track her soulmate down at his actual funeral. They had to lock her in a mental hospital after that.

Not everyone takes the news as well as you have.

“That’s great,” you replied, nudging Nat’s arm gently. “Archery is cool. I bet his arms are really muscular.”

“I bet his whole body is,” she giggled. “I bet he’s just a freaking dream.”

You were waiting for it, for the moment she remembers you don’t have a soulmate. It happened every time someone decided to pity you, and it only got worse the older you got. You cringed slightly.

_There_ it was. 

Natasha’s bright grin fell, and she sat up a little to look at you. “Oh, Y/N, I’m _so_ sorry. I don’t mean to go on about it. I…I never know what to say to you when this happens.”

“Say anything but you’re _sorry_ ,” you told her, forcing a smile to your face. “I promise, I’ve come to terms with it, Nat. I want you to be happy. It’s exciting to see it happen, to see your reactions. It’s like I’m living vicariously through you. If your soulmate’s out there, we’re gonna find him, okay?”

“Okay.” She offered you another one of her brilliant smiles, and this time, you didn’t have to fake your own…hers were that contagious.

“So, let’s think about the clues from your visions so far. Male, blond hair, archery, Olympic trials…I bet you could find a list of the competitors on the internet and narrow it down.”

“You’re so right!” Nat stood up, reaching her hand down to haul you to your feet, too. “Come on. I’m dying to see if I can figure this out tonight!”

Once you were on your feet, she dragged you over to her desk and flopped down in front of her laptop.

It took a couple of hours, but Natasha managed to narrow down her archer soulmate’s identity to one of three people, two of which were from this country and one from overseas.

While you hadn’t been lying earlier, and you really did like seeing her happy, this stuff still weighed down on you, and you could feel yourself slipping again. You told her gently that you needed to get home.

Though, really, what did you have to go home to? An empty apartment, and the reminder that you were alone in this world.

_Greeaaattt_ …

Besides, while you were standing over Nat’s shoulder watching her research her future husband on her laptop, you had an idea.

Maybe there was someone out there, who, like you, hadn’t gotten the flashes when they should have started. Maybe, maybe, maybe there was hope for you yet, sitting out on the internet in a nice, neat little article. You wanted to search this out on your own, though, just in case what you found wasn’t what you were looking for.

* * *

You went back to your apartment and sat down on the couch, pulling a pillow over your lap and setting your open laptop down. You immediately pulled up Google in your browser.

_Soulmate flashes after teenage years_

Over 8 million results, none of which looked helpful. Maybe if you tried re-wording it.

_Haven’t had soulmate flashes yet_

This resulted in page after page of sob stories about soulmates that died, or people who were forever alone. Yeah, you knew that already, Google. You backspaced that one, too.

_Late start to soulmate flashes_

Ah, this looked a little better. You leaned up a little, reading through the summaries of each link. At the bottom of page one, you saw a link that said ‘ _Haven’t had your flashes yet? There could be a good reason_.’

“Try me,” you muttered, clicking the link.

A new page opened up which, much to your relief, didn’t look like the homepage of a wackadoo. At the top was a collage of people hugging – just some stock photos that were poorly photoshopped. That wasn’t a warning sign just yet.

Your eyes wandered further down the page. Apparently, there was a man in New York City who called himself Vision (Yes, that was his actual legal name now), and he was claiming that he could help someone with their _delayed flashes._ Okay, so the name was a little bananas, but maybe it was just a business title. Bozo the Clown wasn’t that guy’s real name, either.

“The number one reason why someone may not have had flashes yet is obvious and painful,” you read aloud. “One’s soulmate might have died or become incapacitated before a flash-receiving age was reached. Since one-half of the connection is now gone, the other will never experience the flashes.”

Well, _no shit_. You knew that. Everyone knew that. Even Google knew that, about eight million times over.

“But, another reason exists for delayed flashes,” you continued, your voice echoing around your apartment. “There is a stigma surrounding this theory. Many suggest that it is wrong to get one’s hopes up with so little chance at success. However, as someone who experienced delayed flashes firsthand, I can assure you that the theory is valid.”

You scoffed. “Great. Atheory is valid? How can a _theory_ be _valid_? Wouldn’t that push it into the factual category? Maybe he _is_ a wackadoo.”

The next section on the website instructed visitors to watch a short video of Vision explaining his so-called valid theory. You clicked play, expecting to see him, but he only did a voiceover while you watched stock footage of happy couples. He was really getting on your nerves with this Sandals resort-type crap at this point.

_“Are you one of the one-percenters? Are you one of lonely few who have yet to realize the probability of a soulmate? If so, you have come to the correct website.”_

“Wackadoo,” you muttered.

_“While some might consider you to be abnormal, or look down on you with pity, there is still a chance for you, past the normal flash age, to realize your soulmate if they are still alive.”_

“That’s a hell of an ‘ _if’_ there, buddy.” This guy was unbelievable. Was he just preying on the lonely, the desperate?

_“I, myself, had not experienced my own soulmate flashes until later in life. My darling soulmate, whose name is Wanda, first came to me in my dreams. Then one day, while I was having breakfast, I experienced my first flash. It was as if I was really there with her. I saw her red hair and her leather jacket first. Then her hand reached for mine, and I saw a unique tattoo on her skin. From that one flash, I was able to identify my soulmate.”_

Well, then _maybe_ there was a smidgen of hope for you yet…

_“How did I get myself to that point? I simply wanted it so much that it happened. I willed it into existence. I went through some exercises in my mind, ones that I can teach you, free of charge. You simply have to be brave enough to experience them, embrace the unknown, and come to terms with what fate does or does not offer in the end. If you are brave enough, if you are open-minded enough, come meet with me in my office in midtown, and I can help you.”_

The video ended, and you were left feeling slightly winded somehow. Could you contact a nutball like him and still look at yourself in the mirror?

What if you got your hopes up, like literally everyone had warned sternly against, and ended up even more depressed about it?

Wasn’t it worth the risk, though? If you didn’t take a chance, you’d never know for sure.

The thought of finally, _finally_ belonging to someone…it sent chills down your spine just thinking about it.

_You were gonna do this._


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re _really_ going?”

You looked up from your lunch to your best friend’s tear-covered face. “I have to try, Nat. I’m not you, I don’t…I don’t have a sure thing. _Everything_ here is based on the soulmate connection. It’s considered to be a liability if you aren’t normal, if you’re a soulmate-less freak like me. I’m just _so tired_ of being considered to be less than myself.”

More tears spilled over and down Natasha’s cheeks, narrowly missing the sushi plate in front of her. “You aren’t a freak to me. I love you. I don’t want you to walk away from this and end up worse off than when you started.”

“That’s my risk to take,” you reminded her. “It’s _my_ choice. If I get hurt, then at least I got hurt while seeking the truth. I need to know for sure, or I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if I did enough.” You paused, offering her a tiny smile. “And, ya know, I love you too.”

She grinned through her tears, and reached for your hand across the table. “Take care of yourself, okay? Text me every single day.”

“I’m only going to be gone a week! I think you can manage that long. Besides, you’ve got a hot blond professional athlete to track down, right?” You pulled your hand away gently; she could be so _melodramatic_ sometimes.

“Right,” she said, wiping at her face. A dreamy look filled her eyes, and you knew you’d distracted her from her tears, at least for a little bit. “ _Clint Barton_. Just saying his name gives me butterflies, Y/N. I can’t _believe_ I finally found him.”

“So, what exactly happens once you meet him? Are you going to move to where he lives?”

It turned out that Clint lived the next state over, just a short drive from there, and the Olympic trials were being held in a town even closer.

“Well, according to my parents, and basically _everyone_ _else_ , the closer we get, the more intense the flashes become. He’ll be noticing them more often, too. He’ll know I’m getting closer. They will stop altogether once we meet face-to-face.”

“ _That’s it_?” you asked incredulously. “You just make eye contact and then, boom, the flashes are over and the bond is locked?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “I mean, you don’t _have_ to end up with your match, but the flashes won’t stop until you at least meet. Plus, your bond with that person can’t be severed, so why bother trying with anyone else?”

“It’s just so weird. The idea of being meant for one other person is weird. You have a _one-in-seven-point-something-billion_ chance of finding them, and if you don’t, you’re an outcast.”

Natasha made a face at you. “Anyways, I have to go pack, and so do you. Like I said, text me! I need to know every detail, especially if you end up having any flashes after all.” She seemed all better now that you’d brought up her soulmate. Her tears had mostly dried, and her eyes were bright.

“You got it. Now can we please eat our lunch in peace?” You made a face at her, pretending to be completely done with her bullshit. “I can’t handle anymore drama until after I’m full.”

Natasha threw a balled up napkin at your head with a laugh.

* * *

The day you left for New York City, no one was there to see you off.

Not that you were expecting anyone, of course. Natasha had left before you to start her own soulmate adventure.

Your family – both of your parents and your older brother - had all stopped giving a rat’s ass about you when they realized you were a _flash-less_ oddball. Luckily, they had let you live in a room in the basement until you were of age to move out and find your own place.

You had packed only what you could carry (of the basic necessities) and left without a single word. You didn’t miss them, though. How could you miss a family that treated you like that?

The first thing you did when you moved out was look for a job. In order to get a decent job, at least one that paid your bills and provided a little bit of health coverage, you were forced to lie to your boss about your soulmate status. It was generally looked down on, sort of like having a criminal record, though they weren’t allowed to discriminate over it at that time.

That’s right, not having any flashes or soulmate connection was as good as being a criminal to some people.  

You worked during the day, and you went to night classes, eventually earning a degree in nursing. You knew it was your calling to help people, and nursing was one field that would never become redundant, not with all the wars being fought around the world.

Then one day, someone died from unknown causes in the hospital where you worked after graduation. _You_ hadn’t been on call at the time, thankfully, but there was an unfortunate twist anyway. An internal investigation led to the discovery that a staffer who didn’t have a soulmate connection had been in the room when the patient coded that night.

Well, all it takes is one bad news cycle to destroy a reputation, and that _one flash-less person_ ruined it for everyone else at the hospital. They began to find reasons to fire those that they suspected might lack a soulmate connection. You were tossed to the curb not long after; being single and living alone at your age was just too suspicious.

Getting a job became a little harder after legislators passed a bill that allowed employers to check your soulmate status during your background check. 

It started on a local level, with neighbors filing complaints against those lacking the soulmate connection. Some mayors joined the cause, followed by state representatives, and it spiraled from there. When the hateful legislation reached Congress, you knew you were going to be an outcast for the rest of your life.

The only reason you were able to get by was because you knew someone _who knew someone_ who knew Bruce Banner, a genius scientist who had no patience for all the discriminatory bullshit you were being put through. He had a soulmate, but he still knew what it was like to be considered a freak.

Under Bruce’s employ, you were no longer a nurse, though on occasion you _did_ have to help patch him up after an experiment went wrong. No, now you were more or less an administrative assistant, until Bruce could figure out where you belonged.

He’d been completely cool with you taking a week off to go find your soulmate, if that person even existed. Bruce was always encouraging you to ignore the people who spewed hatred into the world and be your own person, as long as you contributed to the non-hateful bits. He understood that you at least wanted to try, though his parting encouragement was to remind you that you were still worthwhile even _without_ the flashes.

Yeah, _no way_ were you ever going to let Bruce Banner down…not on purpose, anyways. He’d become more of a mentor, more like family than your own blood relatives had ever been.

When you finally got on your way, the trip into the city was uneventful. You took a train in, since you’d never been on one and had seen them in movies and stuff. It ended up being really dull, and the sound of the train on the tracks nearly lulled you to sleep, but you were too scared to close your eyes. There was no outright way to identify the soulmate-less, but you didn’t want to risk getting mugged or something either.

You originally thought you were going to be staying in a run-down motel (that you could afford), but Bruce had gone ahead and arranged something with a man named Tony Stark, another genius friend of his, who happened to be a billionaire. Like Bruce, Tony was against the discriminatory legislation. He was more than happy to help your attempt at normalcy, but he also assured Bruce that he would help you even if this didn’t work out, which brought you a lot of comfort.

So instead of some roach-infested shithole, you were now staying at the Plaza, the same freakin’ place from Home Alone 2. It was stunning inside and out, and you felt like you were some sort of celebrity or heiress or something.

After you stashed your bag in your room, you decided to just get right to the point of your trip and walk the short distance to Vision’s midtown office. When you got to the building, you walked up to the front desk and eyed the sign behind the receptionist that listed each person or company and the floor they were on.

“Can I help you, Miss?” A tiny brunette woman with thick, horn-rimmed glasses peered up at you from behind a large desk.

“I’m looking for a guy named…Vision? His website gave this address, but his name isn’t on your little sign back there.” You pointed over her head.

The receptionist frowned at you, pulling her glasses just far enough down her nose to indicate that she instantly thought less of you. She must be familiar with his work…she must be one of _them_. “That man is no longer renting in this building. I haven’t got a single clue where he’s moved to, or if he’s even still in business.”

What…the hell? You came all this way only to be told that the guy vanished into thin air?

“Oh, okay.” _Breathe, Y/N, just breathe_. _This lady is just stupid. Stupid, ignorant, and she’s had way too much of the dark side’s Kool-Aid_. “Thank you for your time.” Without another glance at her, you turned and walked back out to the streets of New York.

Now what?

Either Vision went out of business because of lack of clients, or he was shut down against his will.

Given the fact that you’d discovered an entire active population of people like you on the internet, in support forums and even secret dating sites, you highly doubted that he would be lacking clients. That meant he was likely shut down by the city.

The city you’d loved from afar your entire life suddenly felt a lot less welcoming. Raindrops started falling, adding insult to injury, but luckily you had a little bit of cash for a taxi back to the hotel. You moved to the curb to hail a cab, when flashes of light made your vision go haywire.

That’s when it hit you.

You froze in place, right there on the edge of the sidewalk in midtown Manhattan, while people passed you by as if nothing was happening.

This was a normal sight for them, after all.

_For the first time in your life, you had a flash._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has her first flash, and stumbles upon some intriguing information…

_This is really freaking weird._

That was your first thought when the flash started, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. While Natasha had always described her flash scenes as having radiant colors, your first flash wasn’t quite so dazzling. 

Everything was very surreal and hazy, as if there was a filter over your eyes that muted each color. You were still standing on a street in New York City, but you didn’t recognize it at all, nor did you understand its significance. Shadows and shade covered most of the street.

You squinted, scanning every direction for any hint or clue as to what you were meant to be witnessing. There was a whole lot of no one and nothing in particular. What good is a flash if it doesn’t actually _help_ you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a slight movement – one of the shadows seemed to move ever-so-slightly. You turned your body slowly, focusing on the corner and mentally pleading with your brain to tell your soulmate to just freaking show himself already.

As if someone heard your thoughts, the silhouette of a person came into view. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized that you were staring at a man in an all-black suit…or was it a uniform? You studied his form carefully, raptly tracing every detail and mapping them in your memory.  

Yeah, it was _definitely_ a uniform. 

The hard lines of his clothing showed off his muscular arms, broad chest and shoulders, a fit waist, a pair of thick thighs…

You tried to move closer but found that your feet were fixed in place. You were voiceless when you tried to call out to him. Natasha had always described herself in more of an observer role, having previously mentioned that she couldn’t interact with Clint, but you tried anyways for your own piece of mind.

Well, _this_ sure as hell didn’t seem fair. There was actual man candy standing in front of you, and you couldn’t even interact with him. Shouldn’t you get some kind of special deal because you missed out on flashes for so long? Some kind of two-for-one special? You deserved extra-long, extra-detailed flashes for all you’d been through. 

The man shifted, placing his hands in his pockets as he turned his attention to something or someone you couldn’t see. As he turned, you noticed a small badge on the sleeve of his shirt. 

  _NYPD_.

Much to your dismay, your flash ended as abruptly as it started, leaving you dazed on the sidewalk in the light of day. 

So, your soulmate was a police officer? 

_Natasha was going to be_ _so freaking jealous_! 

You longed to go back and see _him_ again, or see what else you could figure out. Now you understood all the smiles Nat wore when she was having a vision; there was no other feeling like it in the world.

Since you finally had a flash, it meant your soulmate was alive and nearby. You were so overwhelmed by the mere _idea_ of him that you collapsed to your knees right there on the sidewalk. All your life, you’d been told you were incomplete, but you’d never quite believed them until now.

You buried your face in your hands and wept for yourself, for your soulmate, but most of all, out of _sheer relief_.

* * *

Once you picked yourself up off the pavement and managed to calm down, you called Natasha. 

You let her speak first, knowing that she was probably bursting at the seams to tell you about her progress. She informed you that she was still waiting for Clint to come out of a meeting after having two more flashes in the last three hours. According to her, if she didn’t see his face in the next twenty minutes, she was going to go into the board room and drag him out by his ‘sexy arms.’

“So anyways, what’s new? Did you find that Vision guy yet? Get any wackadoo mojo going?”

“Nope. He went out of business or into hiding or something.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Nat’s motherly voice was in full force. “I know you really wanted this to work. What are you going to do now?”

It was now or never. “Well…I, uh…I had a flash anyways…about five minutes ago.”

There was a brief pause of what you presumed to be stunned silence, and you bit your lip, waiting for the fallout.

“ _OHMYGODYOUHADAFLASH_?” she shrieked. “Really? You’re sure? You’re not in some weird café where a hippie named Sunflower slipped you something, _RIGHT_?”

You cringed, pulling the phone away from your ear to try to spare your hearing. “Yes, I had an actual flash. It was… _it was incredible_ , Nat.”

“This is crazy! I am so excited for you! Who did you see? Were they hot? Wealthy?”

“It was a man. I didn’t see his face, but I saw his uniform,” you supplied, finally letting yourself feel excitement alongside your relief. “He’s with the NYPD.”

“Ooooooh! I could totally see you marrying a sexy cop.”

“I have to find him first, Nat,” you reminded her, a small smile gracing your lips. “And since this is a huge city with a ton of police officers, I’m not exactly sure where to start.”

“Well, start in the freaking city, of course! We can think this through.”

“I don’t know. It was different for you. You had a lot more to go off of when we searched for Clint’s name and photo.”

“It’ll be all right, Y/N. Reason it out like you always do. Your little impromptu trip must have finally triggered the connection, but I wonder why the distance was a factor. Maybe there’s more to his story than we could have ever guessed.”

“Maybe.”

Natasha was silent for a moment, but you knew she was still on the line because you heard people talking in the background. “Start with injuries,” she suggested finally.

“Injuries? Like a head injury?”

“Yeah, like…he was MIA for over a decade, right? Something had to happen to make your connection weaker, to make it go silent for that long.”

Nat made a damn good point. “I guess I could try the public library,” you mused. “Maybe they have access to old newspaper archives.”

"It’s a start, isn’t it? Better than going to every police station until you have more flashes. Let me know what you find out, okay?”

“You got it. Thanks, Nat.”

“By the way, Y/N…” Natasha’s voice was wobbly now. You could tell she was emotional now that your news had sunken in. “I’m so freaking happy for you. You deserve love more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

* * *

You were a woman on a mission. 

Now that you’d seen him, knew he was real, knew he was within reach, you’d be _damned_ if you were going to let a silly thing like knowing absolutely nothing else about him stop you. Nat was right; there had to be a reason for his prolonged absence, and it was probably the key to figuring out who the heck he was.

The public library was easy enough to find, and they did offer guest passes to use the internet. A man with a very important-looking library badge handed you a pass, then politely told you that you had thirty minutes of free internet usage.

You had thirty freakin’ minutes to narrow down the search for your soulmate. _  
_

_No pressure_.

The first newspaper archive pursuit yielded way too many results, so you narrowed your search. 

You were able to get it down to six major results that were within the time frame between what should have been your flash age and now. Five of the police officers listed had died as a result of their injuries, and of the two who were still alive, one was a woman. Since you had seen your soulmate already, you ruled her out. 

That left one profile. Your stomach was churning, your nerves completely frayed as you clicked on the last news link. 

"Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes, NYPD,” you whispered to yourself, scrolling down slowly. “A Profile in Courage.”

The article stated that when he was thirteen, Bucky was the only survivor of a car accident that killed his parents. A drunk driver had crossed the center lane on a highway and hit the family’s sedan head-on. 

Doctors put him in a medically induced coma to try to save his life after significant brain swelling was detected. Once he regained consciousness, it took nearly two years for him to fully recover his mobility, followed by several more years of extensive physical therapy. 

Eventually, he was released to the custody of a neighbor, Mrs. Sarah Rogers. She had been designated as his legal guardian in the event of his parents’ death. Her son, Steve, had gone with his adopted brother Bucky to police academy. 

Well, that answered at least two of your questions.

Bucky had obviously either been incapacitated due to the coma during his flash age, or his injuries had been too extensive to allow any connection to occur at the time.

He also was able to have a great job with the police department, no questions asked, because he had clearly received an official medical exemption to the soulmate status laws.

Your heart _ached_ for him. You wondered if he went into law enforcement because of that life-altering car accident. _You wondered…_

The article went on for a while, detailing his education, his time at the academy, and the event that caused him to get a commendation in the first place.

Nearly a year ago, Bucky single-handedly saved a woman and two of her neighbors in Brooklyn. The perp was the woman’s own abusive husband. He’d been drinking, and had come home and tried to kill her. She managed to get away by hitting him with a frying pan and running to the next apartment over for protection. 

Lucky for everyone, the neighbors had heard him shouting the moment he came home, and had already called the police. Bucky was in the area, so he responded to the call quickly.  That night, he took a bullet in the shoulder to take the man down, disarm him, and get him in handcuffs. 

Sergeant Barnes sounded too good to be true. 

When you scrolled to the bottom of the page, there was a picture of Bucky shaking hands with the mayor with a bright smile on his face. He had the _best_ smile, with little laugh lines and a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes.

_Damn_ , you were lucky.

It amazed you, too, because you’d never considered yourself lucky like this before, never thought you’d been given the best of anything. But _Bucky_ …

You were absolutely head over heels in love with Bucky Barnes. You were the epitome of the heart eyes emoji at this point, and you didn’t even mind it. It was stronger than anything you’d ever felt for anyone before, and for that, you were grateful. 

God, how many times had you sat around wishing for this? The endless longing, the tears, the discrimination, the lonely nights…all of that would soon be distant memories, leaving room for new memories you would make with Bucky, if he’d have you.

If Natasha could see you now, she’d be thrilled, but she would also be sure to get a dig or two in, considering how much you’d teased her about Clint.

Hopefully you’d measure up to his standards, too, at least enough to deserve a man like him. After all, he had turned tragedy into triumph. You…well, you did the best you could with the circumstances you were given. That’s what soulmate connections were supposed to do, though, weren’t they? Your soulmate was supposed to make you want to be your best self, and help you achieve that through your partnership.

There was _no way_ that you were going to let your insecurities keep you from meeting him. Both of you had waited far too long for this connection.

It was time to meet your soulmate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language, fluff, angst, pain, descriptions of injuries, graphic death
> 
> (Do not read if you’re squeamish or easily frightened or triggered by this sort of thing! DO NOT DO IT. I will completely understand.)

_He was nearby._

You knew, because Nat had told you the closer you got to Bucky, the more frequent your flashes would become. That’s what happened with her and Clint, anyway. You’d been having flashes off and on all morning, five in total so far. 

The first three had led you to the street you were on at the moment.

You’d seen the street signs, walked the same sidewalk, smiled at some of the same passersby. Clues had led you to this outdoor café, where you sat with a cappuccino, in the same chair at the same table that you’d chosen in your visions.

That was all good and fine… _that_ made sense to you. Your flashes made you see something, and you followed the clues like a treasure map.

But now you were so freaking confused. 

These last two flashes didn’t make any sense, and didn’t follow the same structure as the others. Neither flash had featured Bucky. In fact, the only thing you had seen was the sky. You couldn’t move your head, you couldn’t look down…your only view was the swirling clouds above.

You tapped your fingers on the table at a different tempo than your shaking leg, wondering what it all could mean. Natasha had never ever mentioned feeling uncomfortable or frightened after her flashes. No, she’d always been subjected to sunshine and rainbows in hers, apparently.

Maybe your flashes were reflections of how you were feeling, sort of like your dreams? You were anxious as all hell, and scared to be rejected (which sounds stupid when dealing with a soulmate, but what did you know about acceptance? You could count those loyal to you on one hand). 

You let your eyes drift upward, noting the mix of light and dark grey clouds. There was an occasional sun shower peeking through, though, which left the city looking a little mythical, like something that Tolkien had dreamed up. Some small trees lined this street, giving it the feel that you were outside of a major city, when really you were just in one of the boroughs that was a little less pavement and a little more hipster.

Back to the sky, though. Why was it featured so heavily? There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Maybe Bucky was really Superman? _It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s James ‘Bucky’ Barnes!_

A smile tried to find its way to your lips, but you were having none of it, biting your lower lip to stop yourself. This was serious business, and you were exhausted and having some silly thoughts instead of staying on task. You needed to focus, you needed to _find Bucky._

Flashes were a lot more emotionally draining than you had anticipated. There’s this strange tug that feels like it’s centered from your spine, pulling out through your gut and tethering you to this other person. When you see them, you feel this incredible sense of urgency…to be near them, to talk to them, _whatever_. It was wearing you down when it should be building you up, making you feel whole.

Your eyes flitted across the faces of strangers, searching for any familiarity in their faces and coming up empty. You were so intent on the task at hand that when your phone buzzed, you jumped out of your seat.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Why do you sound weird?”

Oh, probably because your nerves were shot, no big deal. “I’m fine, what’s up?”

“Did you find him yet?”

You made a face, still glancing around. “Nope. Did you finally get to Clint?”

“I did! Sweetie, it’s _unbelievable_! It’s just freaking unreal to finally be in his arms. I can’t even explain it. Wait, what am I saying? You’re gonna find out in no time at all what it feels like, then we can discuss!”

“Is he the dreamboat you were hoping for?” You were so happy she finally got to Clint, but keeping up the excitement when you were still waiting was becoming quite the task. “Am I gonna be your maid of honor?”

“You better freaking believe it! And to answer your question, yes. He is a dreamboat. But more than that, he’s absolutely my better half. Clint’s such a good man, Y/N. I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

“Me either. He sounds perfect for you.”

“Thanks for sounding thrilled, I really appreciate it,” she replied dryly.

You laughed. “You know I am, Nat. It’s just…I’m really tired, and he still hasn’t made an appearance, and I’m just ready for it all to be over, you know? I just want to be with Bucky.”

“I know, Sweetie. Soon, your hand will be in his, and you’ll look at him and say, ‘ _Hot damn, you are one sexy cop_!’ And then you’ll find lots of new and fun things to do with those handcuffs.”

“Nice,” you replied, smirking. Your best friend certainly had a way with words. “I’ll make sure that’s the very first thing I say, ya know…reel him in right away with my wit.”

Natasha snorted. “Seriously, as soon as you’re done kissing the hell out of him, call me. I want to hear his voice, maybe lay down a few rules and warnings for how he needs to treat a gem like you.”

“You got it. I’ll call you after I find him. Go be with Clint, make the most of your day. I love you, Natasha.”

“Love you too, Y/N. Good luck!”

* * *

Your cappuccino had long since gone cold, and there still was no sign of your soulmate. Heaving a big sigh, you tossed some money down beside your cup and stood, stretching a little. There were still two days left in your trip, so you could try again tomorrow.

It was getting dark, you reasoned. It was a little chilly, and it looked like it might drizzle soon anyways. There were loads of reasons to call it a day and spend another night lonely, wishing you had met Bucky already.

Tomorrow was another day.

You tossed your bag over your shoulder and scooted around the tables, exiting the café’s patio area and finding yourself back at square one on the sidewalk. You decided, just for your own piece of mind, to walk back to the corner you’d seen in your flashes. Maybe it would trigger another vision with more helpful information besides the stupid sky. 

After looking both ways, you darted across the street and turned left, staring at the sidewalk dejectedly as you walked. You made it about two feet before you ran smack into someone.

More specifically, you ran into someone’s muscular chest. Your heart pounded, your knees weakened, and you felt that familiar tug from your midsection as you looked up into the bright blue eyes of one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

He reached out to steady you, his own eyes wide. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“

“No, no,” you interrupted, feeling your face grow hot. “It was my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I-”

Your voice trailed off when you realized he was smiling at you with a look of recognition. 

“It’s you,” Bucky breathed out, marveling at the sight of you. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Oh, shit…you’d been so caught up in your own flashes that you failed to remember that he was probably having weird flashes about you, too.

“Found someone, you have,” you joked, immediately shaking your head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that was so lame, I’m…I’m just so freaking nervous! I-” You shook your head again, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’ve been looking for you, too.”

Bucky’s smile was the most amazing thing you’d ever seen in your entire life. It was just like in the flashes; he radiated warmth, and those little laugh lines appeared, and _thank god_ he was holding your arms because you were sure you would have fallen over.

“I’m Bucky,” he offered, eyes twinkling. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N.”

Your name rolled off of Bucky’s tongue as he repeated it, his smile widening. He had a little bit of stubble along his strong jaw. His mouth was gorgeous, mesmerizing even.

“You’re a sexy cop,” you blurted out, cursing at Natasha in your head. “I mean, uh…What I meant was, I’ve been seeing you in my flashes, and you’re usually in uniform.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, his nose crinkling _in the cutest damn way ever_. “Yeah, I had a vacation day today. My flashes were becoming more frequent, and…well I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, after waiting this long, I didn’t want to risk missing you.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” This time you smiled back at him. You were sure that if you didn’t look away soon, you were going to fall head-first into those bottomless blue eyes and drown. “Do you want to, maybe, go somewhere and talk? Get to know each other?”

“Yes, yes we should definitely do that.” Bucky let his grip drop from your arms, immediately reaching his hand out to entwine your fingers with his. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, and you about melted there on the sidewalk. “I know a little pizza joint around the corner, best pizza in the city!”

“I _knew_ we were going to get along. Pizza is the way to my heart.” _God, when were you going to stop being so damn awkward?_

Bucky laughed again, his perfect teeth on display, and you knew in that moment that you were going to let your dork flag fly for the rest of your life if it meant that your cheesy jokes would make him smile like that.

You allowed him to tug on your hand and lead you down the sidewalk a bit. The two of you were grinning at each other like teenagers experiencing their first dose of puppy love, but you didn’t give a shit what you looked like to anyone else. 

The reverie was broken when a man came running out of the building to your right, nearly bowling the both of you over. 

“Rude,” Bucky muttered, glancing at the guy before continuing.

There was a little convenience store at the very corner of the street, one you’d been in twice today to buy gum and lottery scratchers to waste some time. It was owned by an elderly Greek couple who lived in the apartment above it.

You glanced inside as the two of you passed by the door, but when you saw what was going on, you stopped short, pulling Bucky to a standstill too. 

“Oh my god,” you rasped. “Someone’s got a gun to that poor woman’s head!” Your eyes flew to Bucky’s face, and he immediately went into superhero mode.

“Stay here,” he instructed, pulling his hand from yours.

“ _Wait_ , don’t you think you should call for backup first? _He’s got a freaking gun_!”

Bucky looked at you again, eyes pleading. “Just stay out here, okay? Actually, no. Go across the street. I don’t want you anywhere near this guy. _Go_!”

He gave you a little push, but instead of relenting, you panicked. 

You grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his for the first time, trying to convey everything he already meant to you in this kiss. Bucky was too stunned to react for a second, then he returned your kiss eagerly. 

It was over far too quickly for your taste, but, ya know…gunman and all…

“Be careful,” you murmured when you pulled back.

“Go,” he repeated, his eyes a little darker than before. “ _Please_.”

You nodded, then turned and crossed the street quickly, reaching for your phone to dial for emergency help. Your eyes stared at the glass door as Bucky went inside and approached the counter slowly. You lost sight of him.

_“What’s your emergency?”_

“I need to report an armed robbery, on the corner of-“

A couple customers came running out, screaming at the top of their lungs, but not Bucky. You tried to find your voice again. “On the corner of Third Avenue and Union Street, in the convenience store. The robber has a gun!”

_“Okay miss, is the shooter still inside?”_

About ten seconds went by and you heard a shot ring out. You tried to move to see inside the door, but the gunman came running out instead, still brandishing his handgun.You ducked behind a small tree, trying to stay out of his line of sight.

_“Miss? I asked if the shooter was still inside of the store?”_

“No, h-he ran outside, they’re outside, oh my g-”

You watched in horror as Bucky came crashing out the door after him, trying to tackle him to the ground. They wrestled around on the sidewalk, and no one was helping him, _oh god_ , no one was helping Bucky, what if-

Another shot rang out, and this time, you heard a man grunt in pain.

When the shooter stood up and raced down the sidewalk, away from the corner, you knew he hadn’t been the one to take the bullet. No one went after him. What the hell was wrong with people?

_“Miss, stay on the line, all right? I’ve sent officers to the scene. Is the gunman still there?”_

Bucky couldn’t go after him. He was writhing on the ground.

“Officer down,” you cried out into your phone. “Buc- Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes has been shot!” _Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

_“Miss, I really need you to remain calm and-”_

You dropped your phone, finally finding the courage to ignore Bucky’s plea to stay put once you realized that he was trying to crawl to the curb. There was blood everywhere, _so much blood_ that you could see it from across the street. Bucky was dragging himself with one arm, on one knee, and clutching his chest with the other hand.

He lifted that blood-soaked hand in your direction. “Stop,” he croaked, immediately covering his wound again, his face scrunched in agony. “Don’t.”

“ _Bucky_!” You were hysterical now, knowing he was trying to spare you the sight of him bleeding out. “Bucky, I’m a nurse! _I can help you,_ I promise!” You leapt across the first lane of traffic, dodging two different cabs as one driver honked at you in irritation. 

When you go to the center line, you let another car pass before taking off again toward Bucky. His blue eyes were locked on yours, his brows stitched together as he shook his head at you. 

_Almost there_. “Stay still, okay? You’re gonna be fi-“

You never saw the movement in your periphery. It happened too fast for you, for _anyone_ to react. 

You never saw the shooter in his stolen getaway car as he peeled out of a parking space by the curb. You didn’t see him because you’d been too focused on Bucky.

When the car struck your body, you unexpectedly felt yourself go airborne. Screams pierced the air again, but it wasn’t your cry this time.

No, you couldn’t make a sound, because the air was taken from your lungs.

Your bag flew into the street, while you rolled up over the hood of the car and back down again, right near the curb in front of Bucky.

At least, you _think_ that’s where you landed. 

You couldn’t move; you knew your spine was at the very least broken, and possibly - _probably_ \- your neck. You knew that because you couldn’t feel a thing. No pain, just…nothing.

_All you could see was the sky._

“Y/N!” You heard Bucky’s gurgled voice to your right. You couldn’t reply, still didn’t have a voice. From your training, you knew that sound meant that the gunshot probably, at the very least, pierced his lung, maybe even worse. He was bleeding to death, and you were the only one nearby who could help him.

_Why was no one else helping him? There were millions of people in this goddamn city…surely one of them…_

You stared at the sky. Little shadows were creeping in your line of vision, just like they had in your last two flashes.

Your mind was wandering, your focus on the sky drifting in and out. 

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was a mere rasp in your ear. He’d somehow crawled off the curb to you, and you knew that _he knew_ …

He moved over you then, blocking that godforsaken sky. His mouth and nose both dripped blood. When he coughed, even more blood spilled out. 

He was crying, his eyes lined in red, and you wished you could reach up and brush the tears away. You wished you could whisper something soothing, to reassure him that you loved him the minute you saw him in your flash. You wanted to tell him to get well and move on from this, but you couldn’t do much of anything besides wheeze and stare, stare and wheeze.  

Bucky seemed to be saying something, but you lost all focus. You were so tired…

_The universe is cruel_ , you thought idly. 

You’d finally found him, the one you were meant for, the one you’d almost given up hope in ever finding. You were handed three minutes or so of pure bliss, only to have it immediately snatched from your hands.

_The universe is so cruel._

Your eyes were leaking now; you only knew because your vision was blurring. His face disappeared, but you saw the top of his head, saw his fluffy brown hair in your periphery. He must have collapsed on your chest. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he thought you were. Maybe you were both on your way out.

You weren’t going to make him smile for the rest of your life.

You’d never see his blue eyes again.

The grey sky disappeared, and there was nothing.


End file.
